


Cannonball

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Series: Dee Clears Her Fic Folder [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, M/M, also known as: i have no fucking idea what i'm doing, idk bucky's kinda punk-ish??, jock!Steve, nat and bucky are best bros :)))), they're so in love but bucky is a stubborn fuck, well tattooed and pierced
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 11:31:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6236917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He leaned back in his chair and rolled the ball of his tongue stud across his teeth. ‘What’s in it for me?’ <i>Is that the best you could come up with?</i> Bucky cringed internally, wanting to slap himself across the back of the head. <i>What’s in it for me? I get Steve Rogers as a fuck buddy, that’s what.</i><br/>Steve scoffed and flicked his eyes downwards briefly, before he looked back up to Bucky and raised an eyebrow suggestively. ‘Really?’<br/>Bucky swallowed thickly as a partial memory of hard muscles flashed through his head. So what did he say? ‘Yeah, alright.’</p><p>aka, bucky might be sort of in love with steve, and steve might be sort of in love with bucky, but bucky sure as hell doesn't want to admit it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cannonball

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this sitting in my marvel folder for like two months and it just occurred to me that i could post it as a multichap? (not exactly - it's gonna be like 2 or 3 parts/chapters) anyway, hopefully it makes sense...? it's like 3am and i've just gone through this so all mistakes are my own. i'll check it later.
> 
> hit me up on [tumblr!](http://grumpypunkbucky.tumblr.com/)
> 
> (explicit rating is currently due to language and... other stuff... but that'll change. ofc.)

Steve Rogers.

Steve _motherfucking_ Rogers. The captain of the football team who had approximately three quarters of the school’s student population wrapped around his finger. With that hair that looked softer than those stupid microfibre blankets Bucky’s mom was obsessed with draping over every surface she could get away with, and muscles that would impress Hercules himself. He was a fucking _god_.

Then there was Bucky. They called him _Bucky motherfucking Barnes_ , but not for the same reasons as Steve.

Bucky was the school’s resident semi-punk bad boy who had a habit of speaking with a tongue as sharp as the penknife he carried inside his boot.

They were complete opposites in almost everything – placement in the social spectrum, how well liked they were by teachers, and how productive they were in class – but on the same page in other things.

Which might’ve been how they ended up fucking in the guest bathroom at Tony Stark’s final party of the summer before the start of their senior year.

 

* * *

 

‘So you deflowered the King,’ Natasha said, lounging on Bucky’s bed and watching him with an unimpressed expression as he paced the length of his room. ‘What’s the problem here?’

Bucky paused and levelled her with a glare, before resuming his pacing, twisting the spiral in his left ear back and forth as he mulled it over. ‘Trust me, that flower was well and truly plucked before I got there.’

‘I think you mean well and truly _fucked_ ,’ Natasha grinned.

Bucky groaned and flopped onto his bed beside her. ‘You know what I mean and you know why it’s a problem.’

‘Oh, you’re referring to the massive boner you’ve had for him since like eighth grade, right?’

‘If you know, why do you bring it up?’

Natasha ignored him, and continued in a thoughtful tone, ‘Well, I guess you should be glad it’s finally happened. Having blue balls that long can’t have been fun. Was it everything you’d hoped?’

‘Pretty sure drunk sex in a bathroom at a party is not the peak of sexual ventures, Nat. If it is, I might as well go join a monastery or something,’ Bucky muttered. ‘It was more grinding and… fuck, I don’t want to tell you this.’

‘Not like I asked to hear it.’ Natasha sighed and put her fingertip at the tunnel in Bucky’s right ear, still trying to get it in the gap, even though she knew it wasn’t going to happen and it just pissed Bucky off. (It was half the reason she did it, actually. Seeing if things would fit through that tunnel was a favourite past time of hers.) ‘I think you should keep trying, though. A monastery probably wouldn’t take you with all these _unnatural holes_.’

‘I’m gonna give _you_ an unnatural hole if you don’t take your finger outta my goddamn ear.’

Natasha laughed lightly and patted the bed next to her. ‘Lie with me, James. Tell me the story from the beginning.’

‘No.’

‘Think of it as therapy.’

Bucky rolled his eyes, but did as she asked anyway, because he knew his best friend would not hesitate to use brute force if she deemed it necessary. ‘Well…’ he started reluctantly. ‘You were there at the beginning.’

‘I looked hot, right?’ Statement, not question.

‘Yeah, totally. If I had to pick a chick and whatever,’ Bucky frowned, spotting a chip in the paint in his ceiling. He’d have to fix that at some point, or his mom would give him hell if she saw it. ‘I think when all this happened, you were off somewhere with Clint or… I don’t know. Maybe that new dude, Phil?’

‘Clint,’ Natasha confirmed. ‘Have you _seen_ his ass?’

Bucky scoffed. ‘Yes.’

‘Good, because it is fantastic. He has these two little –’

‘I’m really not interested, Nat,’ Bucky interrupted. ‘Anyway, you were off with him, and I was just trying to get another drink, but then someone was grinding on my ass?’

‘And you were so drunk you started grinding back against them?’ Natasha guessed, turning her head to watch her best friend’s face screw up into a grimace.

‘Yeah, then I spilt my drink down my shirt,’ Bucky shook his head in disgust. ‘I went to wash it off in the guest bathroom, and he followed me… Shit just happened, Nat.’

‘At what point did it sink in that it was Steve Rogers?’

‘Around the time when he tried to be sexy and bite my lobe, found a fucking metal tube there, then said, _“Ow, fuck!”_ and pulled away enough for me to see his face in the mirror.’

Natasha raised an eyebrow incredulously. ‘How did you not see him before then? He’s huge.’

Bucky sighed, and a dopey smile split his face before he could stop it. ‘Yeah, he really is.’

‘Oh, _gross_!’ Natasha said, whacking him in the chest. ‘No, okay, we’re done here. We’re done.’

‘We might’ve been drunk and it was sloppy as… well, sloppy as fuck, but it was pretty good,’ Bucky continued. ‘Do most guys carry cond–’

‘You can shut your mouth immediately,’ Natasha said, lurching upwards and making a show of clutching her throat, like she was about to vomit. ‘Wait, did he fuck _you_?’

‘Nah, he just had all the shit with him,’ Bucky grinned. ‘Rolled it on with his teeth.’

Natasha blinked. Opened her mouth and closed it again, like she couldn’t decide what to say. Finally she settled on, ‘I am both grossed out and impressed by that.’

‘Don’t know why you’re grossed out talking about it, it’s not like you haven’t _seen_ my dick before.’

‘We were fifteen, and it’s now a repressed memory.’ Natasha sighed and sat in Bucky’s desk chair, spinning around as she idly twisted one of the studs in her own ear. ‘So are you gonna do it again?’

‘What, fuck Steve Rogers?’ Bucky asked, standing up and going across to his box of stretchers and browsing it half-heartedly.

‘Yeah,’ Natasha nodded, watching as her friend picked out a plug, popped out his tunnel, and cleaned them both with tea tree oil, before he turned back around to her as he slid the new hematite plug in, adjusting it as he thought.

‘We didn’t exactly have a deep and meaningful afterwards,’ Bucky said.

‘Great. So now you’ve banged the golden boy, your pining will be at a record breaking high, right? I have something _new_ to look forward to?’

Bucky flipped her off and gave her a withering look. ‘Eat me, Romanoff.’

‘Might leave that up to Rogers,’ Natasha shrugged. ‘That could be his next party trick. Y’know, if you ever do the dirty with him again.’

 

* * *

 

‘Hold up, you did what?’ Sam asked loudly, interrupting the lamenting of his best friend.

‘Bucky Barnes. That’s what I did,’ Steve repeated. ‘Would you like to hear it in French? Or Spanish, perhaps?’

‘No, I’m good with just English,’ Sam grinned. ‘So you finally got it out of your system? You can come back down to Earth now you’ve had a bit of dirt in you?’

‘He’s not dirt,’ Steve said defensively. ‘Everyone has their quirks –’

‘Are we classing probable felonies as a quirk now?’

‘He’s not a felon!’

‘Are you sure?’

Steve frowned and said nothing, sitting on Sam’s bed and rubbing his eyes. ‘He’s just so…’

‘So help me God, if you say –’

‘ _Pretty_ ,’ Steve finished.

‘You said it,’ Sam threw his hands up. ‘You said pretty.’

‘He is though!’

‘You’re a sexually repressed, church going citizen. I’m sure your tastes are just… marginally impacted by that, somehow.’ Sam sighed and sat on top of his desk, ignoring the sound of papers crumpling beneath him. ‘It’s just a crush, Steve.’

Steve laughed miserably. Was it a crush? Maybe at some point it had _been_ a crush, but now he’d had a taste of the wonder that was _Bucky Barnes_ , he kinda wanted more. Definitely wanted more. ‘You know it’s not like that.’

‘What is it like, then?’

‘He’s…’ Steve searched for the right word. The best he could come up with? ‘He’s just different.’

Sam rolled his eyes. ‘Okay. Look, if you want to chase after Barnes, go ahead. I’ll support you and be here to remind you it’s probably a terrible idea, but if you think he could make you happy, then I’ll be happy for you.’

‘Thanks, Sam.’

‘Don’t see why you couldn’t have had a crush on someone that _didn’t_ carry a knife in their boot, but that’s just my opinion.’

‘You’ve made your opinion very clear,’ Steve replied. ‘And just for the record – I’m not sexually repressed. You just think I am because I don’t talk to you about this stuff.’

Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously. ‘Are you saying you kiss and _don’t_ tell me?’

‘Yeah, figured you wouldn’t want that image in your head.’

‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’

‘I know.’

 

* * *

 

The second that Bucky walked into the not-so-hallowed halls of his high school, he pretty much wanted to turn straight back around and leave again.

Natasha, of course, sensed this. She grabbed his arm and dug her nails into the sensitive flesh of his upper arm, then hissed into his ear, ‘I swear to God, Barnes, if you flake out on me this year, I’ll end you.’

Bucky peeled her fingers off him and said, ‘If I dropped out, my mother would beat you to it.’

Natasha smiled genially. ‘Probably why her and I get along so well.’

‘Probably. What’ve you got first?’

‘Physics,’ she rolled her eyes. ‘Pray for me, I think Stark’s in my class.’

‘I have French. Rogers is in mine,’ Bucky muttered, as they continued striding down the hallway.

‘You want to swap?’ Natasha offered, half serious.

‘I’d rather take the awkward post-fuck silence than Stark’s nonstop bullshit, but thanks for the offer.’

Natasha laughed and slapped him on the back, the force of it making him jerk forward slightly. ‘Think of it this way – it won’t really be “awkward post-fuck silence”, will it? You hadn’t talked to him before you got your dick in him, so I doubt anything will change now, James.’

Bucky grunted in acknowledgement and stopped as they reached his classroom. ‘Thanks for the reminder. Go to physics, would you?’

‘Starting off the year on the right foot, are we?’

‘Seeing as you’re apparently best friends with my mom, I’m pretty sure you know it’s not by _my_ choice.’

Natasha raised an eyebrow. ‘I’ll have to inform Winifred that her bribery tactics are working.’

Bucky glared at her. ‘Fuck off and do science, Natasha.’

Natasha put her hands up in surrender, acting scared but barely containing her laughter. ‘Pulling out the full names, I’m terrified.’ Nevertheless, she turned and headed towards the science block, pausing to call back, ‘Be safe, James!’

‘I’m going to kill you!’

‘Do you speak to all your friends like that?’ a quiet, low voice asked, somehow having managed to sneak up behind Bucky without him noticing.

Bucky spun around and almost whacked his face into the most toned chest he had ever seen. (Both with and without a shirt.) ‘Shit, what the fuck, Rogers?’

Steve smiled, his tongue darting out momentarily to wet his bottom lip. Bucky found it very distracting. ‘I, ah… I wanted to th–’

‘Wow, no,’ Bucky interrupted. ‘Whatever you think is currently happening is very wrong.’

‘We didn’t get the chance to talk after –’

‘Yup, and that’s how it’s gonna stay,’ Bucky nodded and swiftly walked into the classroom.

Steve fucking Rogers followed him, obviously, taking the seat right next to Bucky’s and leaning across the aisle between them, looming his massive shoulders very close to Bucky’s face. ‘I feel like we should, though.’

‘Well, I’m nothing if not a crusher of dreams.’

‘Bucky,’ Steve said softly. ‘I don’t think it was a mistake.’

Bucky blinked and kept his eyes straight ahead. Maybe if he didn’t look at Steve, he’d go away. (Which, yeah, was a bit counterproductive to dealing with Bucky’s short term goal of tapping that again, but when the guy you’ve liked for the past four years is suddenly talking to you and apparently saying he enjoyed your dick in his ass, it all becomes a bit too much to deal with. Somehow.)

Taking Bucky’s brief silence as permission to continue, Steve took a small breath and whispered, ‘When are you free next?’

Now, Bucky turned to him, mouth slightly agape. ‘What?’

‘I get you probably don’t want the whole school to know about this –’

‘Wait, is this blackmail?’

‘No, of course not, I’m just saying, we don’t have to go public at all,’ Steve said quickly. ‘I’m totally okay with that. I just… I need…’

‘Jesus Christ, don’t say _“I need you”_ because I’ll punch you outta principle.’

‘Not exactly a _lie_ ,’ Steve murmured. ‘Please?’

Sensing he now had the upper hand in the situation, Bucky relaxed slightly. He leaned back in his chair and rolled the ball of his tongue stud across his teeth. ‘What’s in it for me?’ _Is that the best you could come up with?_ Bucky cringed internally, wanting to slap himself across the back of the head. _What’s in it for me? I get Steve Rogers as a fuck buddy, that’s what._

Steve scoffed and flicked his eyes downwards briefly, before he looked back up to Bucky and raised an eyebrow suggestively. ‘Really?’

Bucky swallowed thickly as a partial memory of hard muscles flashed through his head. So what did he say? ‘Yeah, alright.’

 

* * *

 

They had been at this for about two weeks, meeting up under the bleachers during free periods to make out. They hadn’t done much more, but that was mainly because Steve felt a little weird about getting his ass out in public. This weekend, however, Tony Stark was throwing another party (“He said it’s to celebrate making it through two weeks of senior year already, but I think it’s more because his parents are out of town and they leave a credit card with him.”) and Steve had convinced Bucky to go, hoping to revisit that bathroom, but maybe with a little less alcohol beforehand.

Bucky hadn’t needed much convincing, honestly.

 

* * *

 

**_Steve Rogers has sent you a friend request._ **

 

Natasha grinned at her friend’s phone and swiftly unlocked it, going straight to Facebook before Bucky could deny it. She hummed to herself as she tapped _Accept_ and sent a message to him.

****

**_Bucky Barnes:_ ** _hey stud ;) ;) ;)_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _hey :) still coming to tony’s tonight?_

**_Bucky Barnes:_ ** _yep_

**_Bucky Barnes:_ ** _coming AT tony’s too i hope ;) ;) ;)_

‘Nat, what are you doing with my phone?’ Bucky asked, appearing in his doorway with a bag of Doritos in one hand, and a couple bottles of iced tea in the other.

Natasha locked the phone quickly and tossed it away from where she was sitting. They watched as the phone landed on his pillow with a soft _thud_. She looked back to Bucky and smiled innocently. ‘Nothing, I didn’t even have your phone in my hand, oh my god, James.’

Bucky tossed a bottle at her and sat next to her on his bed, backs against the wall. He handed her his laptop so she could find them a movie to watch on Netflix, and gingerly picked up his phone, turning it over and seeing the flash of messages on his screen. ‘Fuck, Nat, what did you do?’ he asked, unlocking it and seeing the conversation between him and Steve.

‘I did nothing. He sent a request, I accepted for you, and I got a conversation going,’ she shrugged. ‘How is that so bad?’

‘ _“Hey stud”_?’ Bucky groaned. ‘I don’t talk like that!’

 

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _i hope so ;)_

‘What did he say?’

‘He said “I hope so”, and I actually kind of want to die.’

‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ Natasha huffed. She grabbed his phone and typed out a quick message, handing his phone back to him. ‘There.’

 

**_Bucky Barnes:_ ** _can’t wait to see that ass of urs again_

**_Bucky Barnes:_ ** _it’s been haunting my dreams ;) ;) ;)_

Bucky read what she had sent and hit his head against the wall, staring up at his ceiling. ‘Baby Jesus, I need a favour, and that favour is for some lightning to strike me now and strike me dead.’

‘Praying now isn’t going to help your case, James,’ Bucky’s mom said, walking past his open door, and backtracking slightly so she could join the conversation. ‘Why don’t you just tell this boy how you feel? I know Steve’s parents, they’re lovely people. He’s a good young man.’

‘Mom!’

‘James, really,’ she continued seriously. ‘That boy looks like he could take care of you, I mean...’

‘Fuck, no!’ Bucky exclaimed, getting up and launching himself towards his door. ‘I’m out, I’m done.’

‘James,’ his mom said, jamming her foot in the door so she could add one last thing. ‘I think a boy like that would be good for you. A good influence on your studies, maybe help you get your grades up with little rewards for doing well? I’ve heard that sexual release can be quite beneficial to school work.’

Bucky pursed his lips tightly to contain the scream building inside him. ‘Yep, okay,’ he said, voice strained. ‘Thanks for the advice.’

‘The good Lord knows you need all the help you can get right now,’ she smiled. ‘Get that pent up energy out of your system. You have talent, but talent alone won’t get you into the college programs you want.’

‘Mom.’

‘I’m just saying, James.’

‘Mom, please never say any of that to me again.’

‘Do I need to repeat myself, James?’ she asked. ‘Sexual frustration is no laughing matter.’

(Natasha whole heartedly disagreed with that statement, as she cackled on Bucky’s bed, wiping tears from her face.)

‘No, it definitely is not,’ Bucky agreed slowly and calmly. ‘I’m going to shut my door now and we’re not going to mention this ever again.’

‘Good, because I don’t like talking about it any more than you do,’ his mom said sternly, giving him the “concerned parent” expression.

‘Well, you could’ve fooled me.’

Winifred rolled her eyes and removed her foot from between the door and the doorway. ‘Date Steve Rogers, James!’ she said, heading down the staircase.

Bucky shut his door and leaned against it, glaring at Natasha, who was still going through little aftershocks of laughter. ‘Did you seriously tell my mom about Steve?’

‘It just slipped out!’ she replied. ‘Hopefully your dick won’t do the same toni–’

She didn’t get the chance to finish that, because Bucky had grabbed a pillow and whacked her in the head with it.

 

* * *

 

‘You’re not wearing that, are you?’

Bucky rolled his eyes, and took on a falsetto to mock his friend. ‘“Hey, Bucky, thanks for giving me a lift!”’

‘Uh huh. We’re going back past your house though.’

‘What?’ Bucky looked down to the simple black Henley and jeans he had on. ‘What’s wrong with this?’

‘I’m not letting you show up to a booty call like that,’ she said, shutting her front door behind her as she left. ‘What were you thinking?’

‘Uh…’

‘Exactly. You weren’t,’ Natasha climbed into his car and waited expectantly for him to get in and start the car. ‘Back to your house. You’re gonna wear that tank instead.’

‘What tank?’ he asked, as he headed towards his house. (Again.)

‘The black one that has like an inch of material under the arm holes.’

‘It’s October. I’m not wearing that tank,’ Bucky shook his head defiantly.

‘Exactly! It’s October! Not winter yet, James,’ Natasha grinned. ‘As your mom would say, “Get that booty.”’

‘She would not.’

‘I’m paraphrasing.’

‘I hate you.’

Natasha smiled and patted his cheek. ‘I know, James. I know.’

 

* * *

 

It was nearly nine, and Steve knew that the next time he looked towards the door, Sam would call him out on it and tell him exactly how pathetic he was being. (As if he didn’t already _know_.)

He was twitching nervously, holding his drink with both hands and drumming one set of fingers anxiously against the plastic. He could hear it over the loud, thumping music, just like he could hear his heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird. Why was he suddenly so nervous for this?

‘You should be ashamed,’ Sam said, reappearing at his elbow, after having gone to get himself another drink. ‘I’m pretty sure this is not normal behaviour for someone who’s only in a fuckbuddy situation.’

‘Well, _I’m_ pretty sure he doesn’t want to date me, so I’m taking what I can get before my pretty face gets wrinkled and old,’ Steve replied, downing the rest of his drink. ‘Why isn’t he here yet?’

Sam rolled his eyes heavenwards, seeking some form of guidance with his idiot friend. ‘Okay, please stop seeming so eager and concerned. You might scare him off.’

‘What if I already have!’ Steve hissed. ‘What if –’

‘Steve, shut up,’ Sam interrupted, jerking his head pointedly to the door. ‘Loverboy is here.’

Steve followed his friend’s line of vision and said lightly under his breath, ‘Oh, fuck me.’

Bucky and Natasha had arrived, much to the obvious disgust of the people nearest the door. She was in a short black dress, with killer heels and an expression to match, and Bucky had his usual jeans and combat boots on, the hilt of his knife shining under the lights Tony had set up. That wasn’t what got his attention, though.

Bucky usually wore a couple layers of shirts, but tonight had apparently opted for a thin, black tank top, with the arm holes cut down to his bottom ribs. It was nice to see the muscles Bucky usually had hidden, and the collection of tattoos he had already accumulated – Steve fully intended to get up close and personal with them later tonight.

‘Should I go over?’ he asked Sam from the corner of his mouth, his eyes not moving from Bucky.

‘If you want to keep this under wraps, you should probably just ignore him until you think everyone’s drunk enough that they won’t notice both of you missing at the same time,’ Sam replied.

‘He’s going to get a drink,’ Steve said, ignoring his friend and tracking Natasha and Bucky’s movements as they entered and moved across the room. ‘I’m gonna get a drink, Sam.’

‘Of course you are.’

Steve gripped his cup tighter than necessary as he wove through the teenagers gyrating against each other and found himself at the drinks table at approximately the same time as Bucky and Natasha. ‘Oh,’ he said, acting surprised. ‘Fancy seeing you here, Bucky… Natasha,’ he greeted awkwardly.

‘Steven,’ she replied, nodding at him.

‘Bucky,’ Steve repeated.

Bucky looked up from the cup of punch he had poured himself, a few stray strands of hair he hadn’t captured in his usual bun falling across his face. (Steve’s hand itched to push it back. Miraculously, his hands stayed where they were.) ‘Rogers,’ Bucky nodded at him as well, and Steve wondered if it was a thing he picked up from Natasha.

‘I’m gonna go over there,’ Natasha said, rolling her eyes. _Boys._

‘I didn’t know you had tattoos,’ Steve murmured, slowly filling up his cup with the first thing he grabbed. Bourbon? Okay, sure.

‘Yeah,’ Bucky said awkwardly. ‘Kinda part of my image.’

‘They suit you.’

‘…Thanks?’

‘How didn’t I notice? When we were… y’know.’

Bucky snorted unattractively ( _“Nice!”_ commented his internal monologue sarcastically) and took a sip of his drink, to discover it was fucking disgusting. ‘You were _pretty_ smashed, Rogers. You didn’t see the half inch gap in my ear, I don’t think your skills of perception were exactly working.’

‘Huh?’ Steve asked in confusion.

‘You don’t remember?’

‘No..?’

‘You tried to be enticing and bite my ear. You bit down on the metal instead,’ Bucky grinned.

‘Oh God,’ Steve groaned.

Bucky snickered and sipped his drink again (why?) as he turned to face the rest of the room. ‘I’m gonna go find Nat. Meet me at midnight.’

‘Where?’ Steve asked, totally not distracted by the lights catching off the hardware in Bucky’s ears.

‘Where do you think?’ Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘I hope you’ve got it figured out by then, because I’ll be waiting.’

‘Uh, okay.’

‘Okay,’ Bucky agreed, heading off and blending into the crowd.

Steve watched him go and checked the time on his phone, hoping it would be like… eleven or something. Nope.

**_21:17_ **

Shit.

 

* * *

 

**_23:57_ **

Steve let out a sigh of relief and nudged Sam in the ribs. ‘Gotta go to the bathroom,’ he muttered, heading off after he heard Sam’s noise of acknowledgement. Not like he needed permission or whatever.

Steve had been wracking his brain for details of where the hell he and Bucky had hooked up last time, and eventually remembered Bucky’s shirt had been lying on a sink, so over the course of the past few hours, he had been searching for that sink in Tony’s ridiculously sized house.

Thank God he had found it, but now he just needed to get there again, weaving through the intoxicated masses and up the winding staircase towards the guest bathroom. Once there, he knocked on the door, and moment later, it opened.

Bucky smiled as Steve entered, locking the door behind him. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey,’ Steve grinned back.

‘So… Do you wanna…’ Bucky coughed awkwardly.

‘Just one thing first?’ Steve asked quietly. ‘Take your shirt off.’

‘What?’

‘Just do it.’

Bucky raised an eyebrow but did as Steve asked. He put it on the edge of the sink and turned back to Steve. ‘What.’

Steve tilted his head and slowly walked around Bucky, running his eyes over the tattoos now visible to him – a stag with vines tangled through his antlers on Bucky’s shoulder blade, a red star on the back of his neck, lines in an unfamiliar script (Russian?) on the right side of his ribcage, the pair of swallows on his hips, and the knife amongst roses on the inside of his bicep.

‘You done?’ Bucky asked, crossing his arms and trying not to come across as self-conscious, because he _wasn’t_. He just wasn’t used to this kind of… scrutinising.

‘Sorry,’ Steve said, offering a small smile. ‘What’s with the… Russian?’

‘Maybe one day you’ll find out, but today is not that day.’

‘Fair enough,’ Steve nodded. ‘I, uh. I wanted to say –’

‘Jesus Christ, Rogers,’ Bucky muttered, surging forward and smashing their lips together. (In doing so, he also smashed their noses together, which would’ve hurt, had he not changed his stud into a ring earlier that day.)

Steve got the hint and his hands went straight to Bucky’s hips, thumbs rubbing over the little birds he now knew were there. He used this new vantage point to pull Bucky tight against him, bringing one arm up to cage him against his chest.

Bucky released him after a few moments, and murmured, ‘Enough talk. Take your damn shirt off, Rogers.’

Steve grinned and pulled it straight up and over his head, diving back down to Bucky’s lips. ‘Have you got..?’

‘Last time you did, I didn’t think I’d need to,’ Bucky replied, dragging his tongue, and consequently the stud in it, lightly down Steve’s neck. ‘But if you don’t…’

‘I’m not –’

‘Neither,’ Bucky agreed. ‘Don’t need to, right?’

Steve hummed in agreement and fell back against the wall, bringing Bucky with him. He was vaguely aware of Bucky’s hands pushing down his jeans, when there was a knock on the door.

‘Fuck off!’ Bucky yelled.

‘Bucky, get your ass outta there,’ Natasha said firmly. ‘Someone called the cops.’

‘Shit,’ Bucky moaned, dropping his hands from Steve’s jeans and hitting his head against Steve’s shoulder. ‘Fuck.’

‘Yeah, so we need to go,’ Natasha continued calmly. ‘And, uh. He should probably come with us. I saw Sam running.’

‘Great,’ Steve muttered. He and Bucky shared a wistful glance, before they simultaneously pulled their shirts back on and unlocked the door, slipping out into the deserted hall where Natasha was waiting for them.

They started down the hall, moving quickly and heading out the front door, past the cops who were talking with Tony and a few others in the main living room off to the left. They walked in silence down the road, joining the flow of other students leaving Tony’s house, and turned down a nearby street to where Bucky and Natasha had parked.

As they got in the car, Natasha broke the silence. ‘So, Steve. Where are you going? Your house or Bucky’s?’

‘Uh…’ Steve flicked his gaze to Bucky, who was watching him in the rear view mirror.

‘Just because I’m assuming I interrupted something, and James can get a bit moody when –’

‘Nat, no,’ Bucky shook his head. ‘You wanna go home?’

Steve shrugged. ‘Yeah, I guess…’

‘You guess?’ Natasha asked. ‘I’m sure Bucky’s parents wouldn’t mind if you went home with him. Bucky’s mom, especially –’

‘My mom would love it, yeah, which is why I’m taking him home to _his_ house,’ Bucky said, ignoring the confused furrowing of Steve’s brows.

‘Your… mom...?’ Steve repeated.

‘Don’t go there. Where do you live?’

Steve continued frowning, but gave Bucky his address, who typed it into his phone and started following the directions given by the navigator’s monotonous voice.

As Natasha flicked her eyes between her best friend beside her, and the other half of his incomplete booty call in the back seat, taking in the complete silence they were all in, she couldn’t help but think this would be the most awkward car ride she had ever taken.

 

* * *

 

Bucky pulled up outside Steve’s house about twenty minutes later, and cleared his throat pointedly. ‘So.’

Steve smiled to himself and unbuckled his seat belt. ‘Thanks for the lift. I can’t believe Sam ditched me.’

‘It’s fine,’ Bucky replied. ‘And yeah, sometimes friends do cruel things, huh, Nat?’

Natasha laughed and shook her head in a way that said, _“Oh, you!”_

Steve sat there for a few more moments, before he decided nothing else was probably going to be said. ‘I’m sorry about… tonight. I’ll message you on Facebook and we can… I don’t know. Set up a date or something.’

‘We’re not dating,’ Bucky deadpanned, hitting Natasha on the arm as she started to say something. ‘See ya.’

Steve nodded. ‘Right, yeah. See ya.’

‘Bye, Steve!’ Natasha said cheerfully.

‘Bye, Natasha,’ Steve smiled. ‘See you on Monday.’

‘Definitely!’ Natasha replied, as Steve opened his door and left the car, walking slowly up his driveway and resisting the urge to look back.

As the door was shut, Natasha turned to her friend and grinned in that way Bucky knew wasn’t good. ‘Guess what.’

‘Oh God,’ Bucky muttered, pulling away from the curb and heading towards his house, knowing Natasha would probably want to stay at his anyway. ‘What did you do?’

Natasha held up her phone and wiggled it in her fingers. ‘I got Steve’s number.’

Bucky gave her a sideways glance. ‘So?’

‘Think of all the possibilities, James!’ she said excitedly. ‘He doesn’t have _your_ number, right?’

‘No, and he doesn’t need it, especially not now that you made us friends on Facebook. The messaging function has basically replaced texting as a whole.’

‘Yes, I _know_ that,’ Natasha rolled her eyes and grabbed Bucky’s phone from the centre console of the car, tapping in his passcode and going straight to his contacts. ‘Think of it as an opportunity.’

‘For what?’

‘You can tell him everything you’re thinking about him _without_ him knowing it’s you.’

‘Why would I do that?’

‘Because you’re secretly a sappy idiot and I think you need to let it out some other way than posting pining poems on your blog or whatever.’ Natasha shrugged and concentrated for a few moments as she transferred Steve’s number into Bucky’s phone. ‘Just a suggestion.’

‘I’m not a sappy idiot.’

‘You are pining though.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Eighth grade, James.’

Bucky turned to her and narrowed his eyes as they came to a stoplight. ‘You want me to text Steve Rogers and tell him I’ve been crushing on him since eighth grade?’

‘Of course not, you have more grace and style than that, obviously.’

Bucky snorted and pushed the accelerator as the light went back to green. ‘Obviously.’

 

* * *

 

**_Text From: Unknown [03:32]  
_ ** _your smile is brighter than the sun and i could look at it for hours_

**_Text From: Unknown [03:37]  
_ ** _not like that squinty way that people usually look at the sun like look at it for hours like i'd been underground my whole life_

Steve frowned at his phone and ignored the fact that it was sent at half past three that morning, instead focusing on the fact that some random person apparently had his number, and was trying to… write poetry? Or something?

 

**_Text Sent: Unknown [10:17]  
_ ** _who is this?_

It was a rational question. No response, of course, but you couldn’t blame him for trying.

 

* * *

 

‘That’s terrible, James,’ Natasha said, rolling her eyes and sipping her coffee. ‘I thought you were supposed to be _good_ at this.’

‘What is he supposed to be good at?’ Bucky’s mom asked, walking into the kitchen with a few bags of groceries.

‘Sappy, romantic poems.’

‘Ah,’ Winifred nodded. ‘Are you trying to woo Steve Rogers?’

‘I’m not _wooing_ anyone,’ Bucky said, flicking a crumb of bagel at Natasha.

‘Definitely not with crap like that,’ Natasha agreed. ‘Up the stakes, James, dammit. He doesn’t know it’s you. Spout something about… I don’t know.’

‘Tell him he has a great personality and is a fine young man,’ Winifred offered.

‘I’m not saying _that_ ,’ Bucky shook his head. ‘I don’t even want to _do_ this. Nat is making me.’

‘I’m not making you do anything!’ Natasha protested. ‘I just want you to express your feelings in a healthy way.’

‘So anonymous texting seemed like the natural way to go.’

‘I think it’s a very good idea, Natasha,’ Winifred said thoughtfully. ‘The anonymity provided by having a mobile phone number come up as “unknown” and being able to speak freely with no thought of repercussions is an interesting idea.’ She paused as she put a bag of coffee beans into the cupboard. ‘Then again, that might also be why some choose to employ it as a weapon.’

‘Well, our James is only using it to tell Steve Rogers how in love he is,’ Natasha smiled. ‘Right?’

Bucky frowned. This was a creepy, weird, and very un-Bucky idea. Which might’ve been why it was strangely good. ‘Right.’

 

* * *

 

****_Steve Rogers set your nickname to ‘Bucky’._  
Steve Rogers set Steve’s nickname to ‘Steve’.  
Steve set the chat colour to [yellow]. 

**_Steve:_ ** _hey are u on?_

**_Bucky:_ ** _yeah_

**_Steve:_ ** _oh cool. wasn’t sure **.** are you free today?_

**_Bucky:_ ** _not really. why?_

**_Steve:_ ** _was gonna see if u wanted to finish what u started last night ;)_

**_Bucky:_ ** _well… i suppose u could come over now if u want. my parents aren’t home._

**_Steve:_ ** _would it be a problem if they were?_

**_Bucky:_ ** _no they’d love it and probably get balloons or something_

**_Steve:_ ** _i think i like your parents_

**_Bucky:_ ** _u haven’t met them_

**_Bucky:_ ** _are u coming over?_

**_Steve:_ ** _yeah just give me your address and i'll be there ;)_

Bucky sighed and typed out his address. On one hand, he was totally okay with Steve coming over to finish their booty call, as Natasha had referred to it as. But on the other hand, his family had only gone out for a couple of hours, and that time was nearly up. He really didn’t want his parents and sister to come home and find Steve in the house.

But whatever. Fuck it.

 

* * *

 

Steve really didn’t know what he was expecting when he came to a stop outside Bucky’s house. It was nice, and not exactly what he had expected, given… y’know. Bucky. Nevertheless, he locked his car and knocked on the front door.

Then the second surprise of the day: Bucky opened the door covered in little splatters of paint.

Bucky’s hair was tied back into its usual bun, and he was wearing a faded green tank and sweatpants. Bucky did smile when he saw Steve there, though, and that pretty much stole all of Steve’s attention from that point on.

‘Hey,’ he greeted. ‘Come in.’

‘Thanks,’ Steve murmured, entering the house and shucking off his shoes. (It felt like the right thing to do, and given the neat pile of shoes next to the door – Bucky’s battered combats, included – he figured it was _definitely_ the best idea.)

‘Uh, you can bring your shoes up to my room,’ Bucky said quickly. ‘Just in case my family gets back and you need to jump out my window or whatever.’

Steve laughed, but came to an awkward stop when he noticed Bucky wasn’t laughing with him. ‘Oh, you’re serious?’

‘Yeah, trust me, it’s for the best.’

As Steve followed Bucky up the stairs, he couldn’t help but ask. ‘Why are you like this?’

Bucky was silent until he reached the landing at the top, then turned around with a raised eyebrow. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You’re kinda… hot and cold with me,’ Steve said awkwardly. ‘You’re okay to do this with me, your family is okay with it, I think, but you come across as being disinterested a lot. Why?’

Bucky sighed and went down the hallway to the door at the end, pushing it open and inviting Steve in. ‘It’s complicated.’

Steve walked into the room, taking little notice of it. ‘Then uncomplicate it.’

‘I could,’ Bucky shrugged, then pulled his tank up and off. ‘Or I could just distract you instead.’

‘Distract me?’ Steve ran his eyes quickly over Bucky, trying not to let his gaze linger on the tiny drops of paint that marked Bucky’s shoulders like eggshell blue freckles. ‘It’s working.’

Bucky grinned and reached behind Steve to shut the door, apparently sliding a lock across, if the noise he heard was anything to go by. ‘I know.’

‘You’re avoiding the question though, and I’m gonna get an answer from you,’ Steve said, sounding less confident, now that Bucky was behind him and lifting the edge of his shirt.

‘Maybe, but not right now.’

‘No,’ Steve agreed, taking the hint and getting his shirt off as well. ‘Not right now.’

Bucky laughed and kissed between Steve’s shoulder blades, running his hands up the other’s chest, then back down to the edge of his jeans. He pressed closer to Steve, grinding lightly against him, as he popped the button on the top, and slid his hand inside to find Steve hardening quickly.

Bucky, well. Bucky had never had very good impulse control. ‘Is that a gun in your pants,’ he murmured lowly, stroking Steve in the confines of his pants, ‘or are you just pleased to see me?’

‘It’s not a gun,’ Steve replied, tipping his head against Bucky’s shoulder. ‘It’s your hand.’

‘That was a terrible line,’ Bucky muttered, half to himself. ‘Can you just take your damn pants off?’

Steve turned around and shoved his hand into Bucky’s pants (which was considerably easier due to the fact that Bucky was in sweatpants) and ran his thumb across the head of his dick. ‘Can you?’

‘Not when my family is going to be back any minute,’ Bucky said, leaning his head against Steve and concentrating on jerking him off.

‘At this rate, we’re never going to have sex again, huh?’

‘Probably not.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ Steve muttered. He started slowly rocking into Bucky’s hand, adjusting his own ministrations on Bucky to match, and holding his waist for support. He kissed the side of Bucky’s neck, nosing at his throat, where he could feel blood racing through his carotid artery. (That was a thought that came unbidden into his mind, especially at _this_ time.)

‘Just call me Bucky,’ the other said, laughing breathily.

‘You’re not funny,’ Steve groaned, feeling a familiar coiling in his stomach. ‘Ah, shit.’

Bucky flicked his wrist, and Steve’s knees nearly gave out. ‘I need –’ Bucky stopped and lifted his head towards his window, pausing his hand as well, like it would help him hear better. He lifted his spare hand and clamped it over Steve’s mouth as he made a noise of protest. ‘Shh.’

Steve moved from behind Bucky’s hand and frowned at him. ‘What?’

‘Fuck,’ Bucky hissed. ‘My family just got back.’

Steve rolled his eyes. ‘If they don’t mind, what’s the problem?’

‘ _I_ mind, and _I’m_ the one with my hand on your dick so you’re not going to pull that card right now,’ Bucky huffed. ‘Are we going to finish or give up?’

‘James, we’re back!’ Bucky’s mom announced, knocking on the door, essentially making the decision for them.

‘Yeah, I know!’ Bucky called back, somewhat reluctantly taking his hand from Steve’s jeans.

‘Is Steve Rogers in there? I thought I saw his car on the road.’

‘Uh –’

‘Yeah, sorry, just helping Bucky with some painting on his door,’ Steve said, making it up on the fly and quickly pulling on his shirt.

‘Oh, hello, Steve!’ Winifred greeted.

‘Fuck, Rogers,’ Bucky hissed, wiping his hand on a tissue and pulling his tank back on. He got the small dish of paint he had been working with, and splashed a bit on Steve’s hands. ‘Thanks for the heads up there, _punk_.’

Steve grinned and wiped the paint on the bottom of his shirt, thankful it wasn’t a shirt he would mind getting stuff on. ‘You’re welcome, _jerk_.’

‘How am I a jerk?’

‘You don’t want your family to know we’re a thing.’

‘We’re _not_ a thing.’

‘We’re doing things –’

‘Yeah, but we’re not a _thing_ , thing. We’re not dating,’ Bucky raised an eyebrow. ‘Right?’

‘Right,’ Steve muttered. ‘So, this didn’t go to plan, and I guess I should go.’

‘Probably,’ Bucky agreed, sliding the lock back open as carefully as he could, as to not make a noise. He opened the door and said loudly, ‘Thanks for that, Steve. I was having some trouble getting that spot.’

Steve rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell out his head and continued on their merry way down the hallway. ‘You’re welcome, Bucky,’ he said, matching Bucky’s volume. ‘I’ll help you with any spots you can’t reach.’ He grabbed his boots and headed off down the stairs, trailed by Bucky.

‘Do you want to stay for dinner?’ Winifred asked, popping up out of nowhere, hovering in the entrance to the living room. ‘There’ll be plenty.’

‘No, it’s okay,’ Steve smiled. ‘Thank you, though.’

‘To thank you for helping Bucky get that hard to reach spot,’ Winifred smiled. ‘Stay for dinner, we’re having a roast.’

Steve flicked his eyes up towards Bucky, who had crossed his arms over his chest and was shaking his head _no_. ‘I really shouldn’t…’

‘Steve has to study for a French quiz,’ Bucky suggested. ‘Right?’

‘Right, yeah. French. _Oui_ ,’ Steve smiled and laughed awkwardly.

Winifred laughed and looked up to her son. ‘I’m sure you could help Steve study? You’re so good with things like that.’

‘Mom, Steve can’t stay,’ Bucky said flatly.

‘Nonsense, he can and he is,’ Winifred said. ‘Put your boots down and come to the kitchen. I’m sure my son didn’t offer you anything to drink.’

‘No, he didn’t,’ Steve said, giving Bucky an apologetic glance, as he was steered through the Barnes residence.

‘That is _just_ like him,’ Winifred tutted. ‘I promised we raised him to have manners.’

‘It’s okay, really,’ Steve said, taking a seat on one of the stools at the bar in the kitchen. ‘I was only going to be here for a short time.’

‘Mom, Steve really can’t stay,’ Bucky tried again, leaning against the arch between the kitchen and dining room.

‘I’ve already talked to his mother,’ she replied, turning to the fridge. ‘What would you like? Soda? Milk?’

‘Water is fine, thank you,’ Steve smiled.

‘Mom, Nat is already coming for dinner.’

‘Well, now you and Natasha and _Steve_ can all be here,’ Winifred said, giving Bucky _the look_. The one that meant _“you better stop fighting me on this, son.”_ Bucky hated that look.

‘Shit, fine,’ Bucky threw his hands into the air and headed for the stairs. ‘I’ll be finishing up the painting.’

‘Thanks, honey,’ Winifred smiled, her attention flicking quickly back to Steve as she handed him his glass of water. ‘So, how are your parents?’

Bucky rolled his eyes and headed up the stairs. Fucking Steve. (He _wished_ he was fucking Steve.) He had asked Bucky why he was being all distant, despite his family’s obvious acceptance and approval of who he was.

Well. Call it a cliché, but Bucky was fucking terrified. He had been crushing on this guy for so long, now the moment that something could actually _happen_ had arrived, he didn’t want it to. He wanted to date Steve, and do stupid things like sit in the park and stare moonily at each other for hours. He wanted to go to the museum and share his random facts with Steve, wanted to go climb a mountain and kiss him under the stars when night came over them.

Bucky was in so fucking deep over Steve, the only way he could keep afloat was to kick and push at everything, even if it was a buoy or a life preserver. Or Steve.

And now his mother was doing everything in her power to push the two of them together, and it was _too much_. Bucky was okay with just having Steve as a friend with benefits, because there was no way that he would ever like Bucky as more than that, and Bucky was okay with that – really, he was. Sure, he could _hope_ that Steve would develop feelings for him that were more on par with what he was feeling, but he wasn’t expecting much.

After this long, Bucky wasn’t really expecting anything.

 

* * *

 

‘So Steve’s here, huh?’ Natasha murmured, entering Bucky’s room and shutting the door behind herself, taking in the sight of her best friend lying starfished on his bed and staring at the ceiling.

‘Steve’s here,’ Bucky agreed. ‘My mom invited him for dinner.’

‘I know.’ Natasha sat next to him and poked him in the side. ‘What are you gonna do about it?’

‘Probably jump out my window and run away, thanks for asking.’

‘Is it really a bad thing? You’ve had a crush on him since –’

‘Since eighth grade, yeah, we’ve been over this,’ Bucky muttered. He turned his head to the side and gave Natasha puppy eyes. ‘Can you do me a favour?’

‘Like..?’ she raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

‘Make an excuse for him to leave. I’m sure he doesn’t want to be here.’

‘Actually, he’s helping your mom cook. They’re having a great time, I think.’

Bucky groaned. ‘Oh God, I’m never going to get rid of him.’

‘Seriously, I think this is a good thing, James. This is your opportunity to show him you’re not a shitty person outside school.’

‘I’m not a shitty person _at_ school.’

Natasha shrugged. ‘Sure, okay. Now what you’re gonna do is get changed into some decent clothes, and go be your usual charming self. _Woo_ Steve Rogers.’

‘I don’t want to _woo_ him.’

‘Oh, James,’ Natasha said, patting his cheek. ‘Of course you do.’

 

* * *

 

Okay, so when he had arrived at Bucky’s house to finish off their business from the night before, Steve really hadn’t intended to end up helping Bucky’s mom prepare a roast.

Mrs Barnes (“Call me Winifred”) had taken over the large chicken she pulled out of the fridge, and was currently wrist deep in the chicken’s ass, rubbing herbs and butter on the inside.

Steve was peeling potatoes and carrots to go in another roasting dish, because he hated imposing on people, so he had offered to help out. Call Me Winifred had jumped at the opportunity to hand him a peeler, and was using the time to interrogate him.

‘So, are you on any sports teams?’ she asked, squinting as she concentrated on getting flavour all up in the chicken’s orifices.

‘Yeah, I play football,’ Steve replied, using his peeler to shave out an eye from one of the potatoes.

‘You any good?’

‘He’s the captain, Mom,’ Bucky interrupted, appearing from nowhere and frowning at the dish of vegetables in front of Steve.

‘Well, I have no idea what that means in relation to how good he is,’ Winifred said. ‘How about your grades?’

‘They’re fine, Jesus, Mom,’ Bucky rolled his eyes. ‘You’re acting like a one-woman Spanish Inquisition here.’

‘Nonsense! I’m sure Natasha would join me.’

‘Natasha doesn’t need to.’

‘It’s fine, Buck,’ Steve said, giving him a small smile. ‘I don’t mind.’

‘I do. It’s like this is a job interview.’

‘What’s the job?’ Steve asked quietly, as Bucky picked up a potato and started peeling it beside him.

‘Don’t start,’ Bucky muttered. ‘How many potatoes have you done already?’

‘Four, I think.’

‘God, we need more than _four_.’

‘How many more?’ Natasha asked, appearing from nowhere, knife in hand, and joining them at the roasting dish.

‘Honestly, just keep going until we’re out of potatoes,’ Bucky sighed. ‘Are you sure it’s safe to use a knife?’

Natasha raised her eyebrows at Bucky and said something in Russian, to which Bucky rolled his eyes and replied in the same.

Steve watched in fascination as Bucky and Natasha continued talking (maybe it turned into an argument at some point, but Steve wasn’t totally sure) and eventually settled on glaring at each other.

‘You’re such an idiot,’ Natasha said, apparently ending their conversation. ‘Steve? You okay?’

‘Yeah, I, uh,’ Steve cleared his throat and held up his half-peeled potato lamely. ‘I got potato juice in my eye.’

Natasha opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Bucky swiftly swooping in with, ‘I swear to God, Romanoff.’

‘What?’ she smiled innocently. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything.’

Bucky said something in Russian again, making Natasha laugh and shake her hair from her face. ‘Oh, you’re so cute, James.’

‘I’m not cute.’

‘You’re cute,’ Natasha repeated.

‘I’m not –’

‘You are,’ Steve said quietly. ‘I totally agree with Nat.’

‘See?’ Natasha elbowed Bucky in the ribs and winked at Steve. ‘It is agreed by popular vote.’

Bucky glared at her, but didn’t say anything, leaving a gap that his mom decided to take advantage of by continuing her questioning of Steve.

 

* * *

 

‘I’m really sorry about tonight,’ Bucky murmured, as he walked Steve to his car. ‘My family can be a bit… overbearing.’

‘It’s okay,’ Steve smiled. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘My sister asked if we were dating and you were her new brother,’ Bucky raised an eyebrow and shook his head in disbelief. He was still coming to terms with that particular query. ‘My mom, especially.’

‘I like your mom. She’s very nice.’

‘I’m sure she’ll be glad you think that.’

Steve laughed and turned back to face Bucky as they reached his car. ‘Why aren’t we?’

‘Why aren’t we what?’

‘Why aren’t we dating?’ Steve almost instantly regretted saying it, as Bucky balked and wrapped his arms around his chest.

‘Why would we date?’ he shrugged. ‘You’re you, and I’m me.’

‘And? I like you because you’re you.’

‘Well that’s a relief,’ Bucky rolled his eyes. ‘We would never work, Steve.’

‘Why not?’ Steve asked, tilting his head slightly. ‘I mean, I like you, I _think_ you like me –’

‘We’re from two completely different worlds. You play football and greet people in the hallways and then those same people move out of the way to avoid me and Nat because we’re “scary”.’ Bucky huffed and swore in Russian in frustration. ‘We’re just too different.’

‘I didn’t know you could speak Russian,’ Steve commented, ignoring Bucky’s speech.

‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me.’

‘What a cliché.’

‘It’s the truth, actually. You’ve just decided you like me and seem to think that we have to do this your way, right? You’re not considering that I’m a person, too.’

‘So are you saying you _don’t_ want to date me?’

‘No, I really fucking do, which is _exactly_ why we shouldn’t.’

‘I hope you know that makes no sense,’ Steve deadpanned. ‘If I like you, and you like me, we should just date. What’s the worst that could happen?’

‘You could –’ Bucky stopped and pulled his arms tighter around himself. _You could hate what you find._

‘I could what?’

‘You could die. I mean, that would be pretty bad.’

‘Oh, that would be “pretty bad”, would it?’

Bucky shrugged. ‘For you, yeah.’

Steve sighed and turned to unlock his car. ‘You know what, Bucky? I’m not gonna force you to date me. I’m not gonna make you hang around me if you don’t want to, and I’m sure as fuck not gonna waste my time trying to make you realise that it’s okay for us to date. I don’t know what the fuck your issue is, but when you figure it out, you give me a call.’

‘We wouldn’t work, Steve. That’s my issue.’

‘I think that’s a total lie, actually,’ Steve said, getting into his car and shutting the door, rolling down the window so he could add, ‘I think you’re just scared.’

‘What the fuck do I have to be scared of?’

‘The world? Of being yourself?’ Steve sighed. ‘I think you’re scared of me, in a way.’

‘I’m not scared of you, Rogers.’

‘No, maybe not, but I get the idea you’re scared of how I make you feel.’

The way Bucky set his jaw told Steve everything he needed to know.

**Author's Note:**

> sidenote: my sister has both her ears stretched and i've been trying to fit things through her bigger tunnel (which is think is 12mm/half an inch) for so long, and my niece has just learned to grab things, so naturally the first thing she went for was my sister's ear. i'm so proud. someone finally stuck their finger through it. (probably why she now has a spiral in her ear, but my niece just yanks it instead haha.)


End file.
